


The end of the 13th b'ak'tun, or: how Team Free Will avoided the apocalypse

by unorthodoxCreativity



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Apocalypse, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Mayan Mythology - Freeform, Multi, Porn, Sibling Incest, Threesome - M/M/M, Wincest - Freeform, Wincestiel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 22:32:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/602811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unorthodoxCreativity/pseuds/unorthodoxCreativity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Team Free Will avoided the apocalypse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The end of the 13th b'ak'tun, or: how Team Free Will avoided the apocalypse

**Author's Note:**

> Last near-apocalypse (the Rapture) I wrote porn, so I thought it would be fitting to write porn again.

It’s the end of the world, again, and that fact should really bother you more than it does.

This one’s been hyped more than the others, with years of speculation, but you never actually thought it was real. Apparently some god of warfare and destruction has ascended from the ocean near South America, though, and you really should be headed down there to head him off, but right now you’re enjoying getting your dick sucked too much to move.

You don’t even know the girl’s name, which should also bother you. She picked you up this time, tipsy and crying something about missing her ex, and how you have a pretty face, and then you found yourself here. She’s still crying softly, but you’re pretty sure it’s just because she thinks this is her last day, not because of you. Possibly. Hopefully.

The door slams open suddenly and with great force. Sam barrels in, arms full of books. Papers trail behind him in a flurry of disorganization, which he ignores, girly-long hair flopping into his eyes.

“Hey, ” you say, bones still relaxed. You should care about this interruption, but you really, really don’t.

“Dean, what the HELL.” The books are dumped on the table, and the girl pulls blearily off your cock. Damn.

You shrug. “End of the world, Sammy, can you blame me?”

“Yes, I can, because we should be down there right now stopping it,” Sam harrumphs, shooing the girl out. She wipes at the corner of her mouth and trains a confused stare at you as she steps out the still-open door. Sam closes it behind her.

You flop back onto the bed, huffing a sigh. “Dammit, Sam, always the cockblock.” Your pants are still around your ankles, cock jutting proudly toward your stomach. The spit on it is cooling, and you shiver a little.

“Can you – do you have to just leave it – put your pants back on?”

“Nah,” you say at the ceiling. “Hey, have you seen Cas? I’ve always kinda wanted to get sucked by a man.”

“Jesus Christ, Dean,” Sam yelps, knocking over a chair.

A flutter is all the warning you get before Castiel’s standing next to the bed, looming over you. “Did you need my assistance?”

“Uh,” you say eloquently. Your comment was mostly to freak Sam out, not actually serious.

You feel your entire body go red as Castiel’s gaze shifts to your crotch. His head tilts, that stupid-adorable puppy look he gets when he’s contemplating something he doesn’t understand.

“I’ll just be outside. Crying.” Sam goes for the door, but Castiel stops him with a gentle hand on the shoulder. You breathe a sigh of relief as your penis is suddenly no longer the center of the angel’s attention.

“Wait a moment, Sam. I am uncertain how to proceed in this situation and may need your advice.”

“I – what?” Sam’s eyes flick over to you, then down to where you’re still embarrassingly hard, then at the ceiling. Huh, you haven’t seen him that red since that girl in sixth grade. What was her name, Georgia, Virginia? Some state, you think.

“I have never engaged in copulation and as the other warm-blooded male in the room, I thought you could give me some pointers?” Cas sounds hopeful and a little nervous. Motherfucker, he’s actually taking you seriously.

“I’m his brother?” Sam chokes. He looks at you again for a moment, eyes stubbornly on your face. His adam’s apple bobs harshly, and his eyes are wide, frightened. He turns away from you, shoves his hands in his pockets, and shit, is he turned on? Is he actually turned on right now?

Your cock gives a thrilled little twitch at the idea your brother wants you, and isn’t that the most damning thing it could’ve done. “Sam,” you rasp, mind too scrambled to concentrate.

This time his eyes are hungry, boring into yours with intensity that leaves you feeling small and powerless. Your arms instinctually go up to cradle around your head, breath coming in soft puffs from your open lips, and Sam fucking growls. He comes to the bed, and oh god, he’s pulling his shirt off, throwing it like a punch toward the floor. You feel Castiel’s eyes on you, heavy, as he crawls over you, heat radiating off his chest. You gulp.

Sam’s hands reach up to pin your wrists to the mattress. His lip pulls up in a slight snarl you’d ordinarily be making fun of him for, but right now, you’re messy with precum and horrified at how hard your heart is pounding in your ribcage, and you can only really concentrate on breathing. He leans forward, and you choke on your tongue, he’s going to kiss you, but he just rests his forehead against yours. Somehow, it’s more intimate than a kiss would have been, and he murmurs against your mouth.

“You’re terrible, you know that?” The air gusts over your chapped lips and you groan.

A rustling sound cuts into your thoughts and then a hand is placed on your arm. You jump, breaking contact with Sam to look over at Cas, who – holy shit, has taken all of his clothes off, standing there half-hard, arms by his sides awkwardly.

“You can, you can touch yourself, you know,” you say to him, stumbling over your words. You have never really thought about other men as an option, but suddenly it’s all you want. And Christ, you have TWO, and one of them is pressing down against you and nibbling at your jaw. You groan and reflexively try to stroke his head, but your wrists are still pinned. Feeling your muscles jump beneath his hands, he presses down harder.

You’re pretty sure you’re going to die of arousal, and wouldn’t that be a fitting end.

Castiel gently palms himself as you watch, his eyebrows pulling together, a flush filling out over his shoulders and chest. “Is this good?” he asks, hesitant, and you groan, grind up against Sam, who growls again and shoves you back down.

“God, yes,” you breathe, whole body tingling with need. Sam bites into your shoulder, hard, and you yelp, arching up into him again.

Cas moves to the foot of the bed, where your knees are still folded over. He kneels before you, face pressed gently to the curve of your thigh. The noise you make is most definitely not a sob, except it kind of is. Sam laughs quietly and digs his nails into your side. He moves off of you to give Cas room, and the angel leans forward, delicately tonguing the head of your cock.

You jerk and swear, would probably thrash yourself right off the bed if not for Sam’s strong hands keeping you there. He bites you again, murmuring harshly against your skin that if you swear again, he’ll punish you. A thrill rushes through you at that, just as Cas pulls you into his mouth. A whine that would rival most porn stars curls from your throat, and you resign yourself to the torture.

Somewhere between the head-tilt and his mouth on your dick, Cas learned how to do this well. His mouth is a sweet suction, tongue laving at the underside. Your legs tremble like a girl’s, knees boxing his ears, but he doesn’t seem to notice or care, just taking you deeper. You let out another porn star moan that Sam shuts up with a kiss. You startle, then relax into it, letting his tongue explore your molars. This should be weirder than it is. You’re content, though, every inch of you humming in pure ecstasy as you melt into the coverlet. Sam tastes like breakfast, which for him was a yogurt and an overly sweet coffee.

He pulls away just as you were getting into it. He turns toward Cas, taps him on the shoulder, and even though his hands have left you, you still feel pinned there. “I think he’s ready now.”

“Mm?” Cas says around your dick. He pulls off, drool sliding down his chin slightly. “Ready?”

Sam goes for his belt and your mouth suddenly dries up. “Uhh,” you say, trying to remember how to words, “Don’t I get a say in this?”

“Shut up,” Sam quips firmly, and then you’re acquainted with his cock. His enormous cock, heavy and glistening and you did that to him, you put that boner there. Shit.

You can only watch as he trails the head down your chest, over your abs, leaving a sticky trail of precum behind it. It burns, like he’s branding you, and you can’t breathe. Cas watches fondly, not at all the right expression for the filth he’s looking at. A frustrated growl rips from you, you want him so badly, you want Sam so badly, why isn’t anyone letting you come already?

“On your hands and knees,” Sam commands. Oh, fuck, he doesn’t think he’s going to – but you find yourself complying, still trembling, slipping slightly on your own sweat. He trails his cock over your bare cheeks as Cas gently takes your pants off of your ankles. Whimpering, you pillow your face in your arms, ass still skyward. Sam’s breath hitches, and he whispers to himself something you barely catch, a combination of your name and profanity that sounds beautiful coming from him. You hear the cap of something open and then close.

Cas slides under your crooked knees and sucks you down just as Sam’s first slick finger breaches you. “Oh motherfucking Christ—” you manage to get out before Sam swats you, hard. You jump, overwhelmed by the sudden burst of pain, but then Sam is petting you, stroking over the sensitive skin, and you relax again.

A second finger is added, Cas still bobbing steadily along your length. You concentrate on your breathing, in and out, in and out. You hiccup, Sam’s long fingers crooking and sending a shock straight up your spine. He hums and kisses your lower back, tender, and wow, you suddenly feel like such a girl. You open your mouth to complain but he strokes your insides and you forget everything.

“Mngh,” you mutter intelligently, arching your spine slightly to pull him in deeper. He adds a third finger, and it burns, a hard stretching burn that is nowhere near pleasant and you let out a ‘fuck’ before you can stop yourself. His hand is back, swatting you twice. Your pulse thunders in your ears and you can only hear it and the litany of apologies pouring off of your tongue. He pets you again, twisting his fingers. It hurts, you don’t want to do this anymore, something you try to get out, but there’s nothing but a broken whine in your throat. Sam pauses, opens the lube again, and it’s cold, but easier now, suddenly not so harsh. You force yourself to count your breaths again, in, out. His fingers leave. In, out, keep breathing, you know what’s coming next, and you have to relax, even if you’re suddenly a mess of nerves and meek terror. You trust him, you do, but the size of that cock, god, and the head is pressing against your abused hole now, in, out, you have to breathe, in, out, in—

He pushes in past the head, and your lungs stop working. Cas is lapping at you like a cat and Sam is pressing gently, gently, and you can’t breathe. You can’t breathe.

Cas kisses your stomach gently, murmuring, “Dean, _balit_ , is it alright?” Sam pauses, stroking the line of your spine with a tacky finger.

It takes you a moment, but you manage to croak out a, “yeah.” The unfamiliar word rings in your head, settling deep into your bones like a good song. Your lungs work again, evenly, a calm whisking over you. “Go ahead, Sammy.”

Slowly, steadily, he presses in to the hilt, panting against your shoulder blade. Cas smiles and hums against your stomach, fingers trailing on your length gently. Your whole body thrums with sticky-slow energy. Rolling your hips up toward Sam, you grasp low for Cas, finding his hand and threading your fingers through his. He makes a pleased sound and scoots up next to you. You turn toward him and he bumps his nose to yours, eyes a clear, shining blue, and you don’t even think as you lean in and kiss him.

Sam starts to thrust into you, quick and hard. You groan against Cas and he murmurs to you in another language, the words golden as they sink into your skin. You don’t understand any of it, but you feel cherished, practically worshiped, soul sparking just as much as the nerves getting pounded by Sammy.

Your lower body aches tightly, wanting so badly to fly over the edge and come down, but you hold yourself back, moving with your brother, mouth messy on Cas’s face, feeling your edges fuzz into something unrecognizable. Sam peppers kisses all over the freckles on your back, mumbling praises of his own. You don’t know when this became something so full to bursting with emotion.

Cas’s face is wet. You pull back, confused; you’ve been crying on it. Cas kisses away your tears and holds your hand tighter, Sam moving faster, panting against the bowl between your shoulders.

Sam finds the edge before you do, biting into your skin and drawing blood as his hips stutter. You don’t feel his come until it’s dripping down your thighs, and that’s what it takes for you to finally blow, that feeling of being utterly marked and claimed. A low, heady groan pulls from you as you make a mess of the coverlet and Cas, still halfway under you.

They take turns kissing your face as you collapse into a boneless, sated mass. You should probably give more fucks than you do. You really should. You were just double-teamed like a girl by your brother and your angel and it was the hottest sex you’ve ever had.

Sam’s phone buzzes on the bedside table, and he paws at it, taking a few tries at the answer button before he gets it right. “Mm?”

You can hear the tinny voice of Garth on the other end. “Just wanted to let you guys know the Bolon Yokte K’u situation is all under control!”

“The what?” Sam repeats stupidly, flopping back onto the bed to press against your side.

“You know, Mayan god? Apocalypse? It’s all good in the hood, I got that sucker.”

“You… what?”

Garth’s laugh is garbled over the phone. “Sure did. Make sure you tell Dean to have an awesome Christmas, okay? Later mister gator.”

Sam stares at the phone incredulously, then snorts and throws it at the wall. “I am never leaving this spot,” he says, nuzzling into the bend of your neck.

“Mm,” you agree, petting through Castiel’s sweat-spiked hair. “Cas?”

“I agree wholeheartedly with this plan.”

“Awesome. Now who’s with me: apocalypse sex is the best.”

**Author's Note:**

> "Balit" is the enochian word for "the just." I thought it would be adorable if Cas used enochian for sweet talking.


End file.
